


Watch The World Glow

by Achrya



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fill, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 06:05:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 7,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16927857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Achrya
Summary: Tumblr fills, all Shance all the time. Variety of AUs, themes, and rating.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really write for VLD anymore but some people requested I move my tumblr exclusive shit over so here we are.

Shiro watched Lance, a warm smile curving his lips as the younger man was pulled in close by his mother and father, crushed in a hug by his siblings. It was finally over, they were all home, and Lance was finally back with his family after so long in space. Shiro had been waiting for this, had wanted nothing more than to get Lance back where he belonged. 

And now it was here and he was…he wasn’t sure how to feel. Happy, of course, so happy he felt like his chest might burst and his face hurt from smiling as Lance’s eyes filled with tears and he laughed wetly. 

But it was a bittersweet moment because…because he didn’t know what came next. They were home and Lance wouldn’t need him to cuddle with him at night, to chase away the bad dreams and loneliness with warm touches and linger kisses. Wouldn’t need Shiro at his back, reminding him that he was strong and smart and so very amazing, could achieve anything and had no reason to ever doubt himself. 

That he was perfect, the heart of their team, the thing that held them together. 

He wouldn’t need Shiro to hold him together anymore. 

He didn’t even know if they could work together, be a couple in a normal way, without feeling like everyday might be their last and clinging to each other like they might lose each other at any moment. They hadn’t talked about it and, lately, all that was on Lance’s mind was getting home. Seeing his family. Shiro hadn’t wanted to bring it up, add any pressure or take away from the happy moment when they were nearly done.

Lance was so happy, happier than Shiro had ever seen him and that was-

“Shiro!” Lance shouted, turning around and throwing him a face splitting grin. “Come on, my family want to meet you. Mama,” He turned back to face his mother, bouncing in place a little. “This is my boyfriend Shiro.” 


	2. Yander Shiro

One of Shiro’s favorite things was watching Lance. In class was the easiest, when he was seated at his table with his teammates, bright eyed and always hanging on every single word Shiro had to say. During simulations was easy too, there was an observation desk for teachers and no one thought anything of him using his free period to watch students. 

Other places were more difficult but Shiro managed. Taking meals in the main mess hall instead of with the other instructors. Working out when he knew Lance would be around, occasionally lingering in the locker room. Watching over him when he and his friends went out into the nearby town to hang out.  Holding him after class. 

It was during these observations that he noticed a sort of crush Lance seemed to have on one of the girls in the Fighter pilot class. She seemed like she was a nice enough girl, pretty. Smart. Good at what she did. One of the rare people who seemed to enjoy Lance’s humor, quick to laugh at his jokes and didn’t groan at his attempts at flirting. She was sweet. 

Shiro hated her. Hated her even more when he saw that Lance was not just falling for her, but giving her the looks he’d previously reserved for Shiro. Long, wide-eyed looks of adoration, of longing, of w _orship_. 

Or at least he’d thought he hated her then. As it turned out he didn’t yet know what hate was. But he learned very quickly.

He overheard her and and some of her fighter class buddies laughing to themselves about messing with ‘that goofy cargo kid’ one afternoon when he was grabbing a book from the library. He’d stayed, hidden in the stacks, and listened to her go on and on about how much Lance liked her, how she had him running errands and working on her assignments for her. She called him a ‘stupid puppy’. 

The tension between the different classes, specifically fighter and cargo, was nothing new nor were pranks pulled between them. Not even, he was sure, playing nice, luring someone in, and then turning around and letting everyone know it had been nothing but a prank. 

He wouldn’t have approved no matter who the unfortunate target was, he’d never been one for cruel pranks when he’d been a Garrison recruit, but with Lance…he couldn’t allow it. 

Which was why, even though she was otherwise a good recruit and had a promising future, Shiro had to remove her from the equation. Permanently.

It wasn’t hard. A few tweaks to some essays she’d written for his class, tweaks for ones she’d done in another class, convincing another student he’d been counseling to agree to admitting to writing essays (they were on their way out anyway, had decided the Garrison wasn’t for them, but they were starry eyed and easily manipulated, half in love with their ‘Instructor Shirogane’, and so willing to do  _anything_ for him.) and she was going before the academic board for academic dishonesty. It was quite the crime by Garrison standards, there were few things worse. 

With her essays that so clearly resembled that of the student willing to lie for him, Shiro’s testimony that he’d noticed the similarities before and had been keeping watch and taking notes, and the student willing to admit they’d been paid, the board had all the evidence they needed against her. She had no real defense, other than that she hadn’t done what she was accused of, and while that was true it didn’t hold up after his careful work. 

She was far from the first person Shiro had ever had to eliminate from a situation. 

Lance was sad at first, puppy eyes and long sighs, but Shiro was there for him of course. Sat with him after class and, sometimes even late into the night, consoling him over his ‘lost love’ in a, perhaps.There was email and phones, he said while sitting so close to Lance their shoulders touched, and distance didn’t have to be the end. He touched Lance’s knee, leaned in close, rubbed his back and insisted that they could make it all work. 

It would be the end and Shiro knew it, knew she hadn’t been interested at all, but he played the part of the encouraging mentor. And then comforting mentor when the inevitable silence came from her. The cheerleader when Lance moved a spot closer to Fighter class, as one of the cargo pilots moved on. 

That seemed to brighten things a bit, made Lance happy in spite of his ‘broken heart’. 

And that happiness gave Shiro an idea.  


	3. Stay Over, I'm Alone

Finding moments alone at this sort of…transitional stage in their relationship is hard. Lance is a few months from graduation and so still lives at home. And, while Lance adores his family, they are nosy. They can’t even watch a movie in his room without A. The door having to be open and B. Someone wandering past that open door every fifteen minutes. 

Getting a chance to fool around with all that is just impossible. 

Shiro however was living in the dorms which Lance had been excited about at first.. until learning Shiro had 2 roommates and someone was always there. No privacy to be found so, since Shiro was firmly against their first time being in the back of a car (Lance didn’t see the issue. It was warm, technically inside, and they could find a private enough spot) that meant they were regulated to quick make outs and even quicker hand jobs. 

And a lot of phone and Skype sex. 

Until Lance had come over to the dorms to watch movies at Shiro’s request. Everything was normal, they stretched out on the bed and watched cheesy romcom while one of Shiro’s dorm mates played video games. Then, around eight, the roommate had left with a wave and a wink. 

Never one to pass up having a few moments alone, and well aware that roommate two got off work at 8 and thus would be back soon, Lance had rolled onto Shiro and started kissing him. Sloppy frantic kisses, like the usually were and just as he’d reached to pull at the drawstring of Shiro’s pants, his boyfriend had pulled away, telling him to calm down.

Which. No. Shiro laughed at his expression then, voice dropping to a husky whisper, leaned in to whisper into his ear. “Stay over, I’m alone. All night.“ 

That had been an hour and a hastily left voice-mail message telling his parents he was sleeping over at Hunk’s ago. Now Lance was on his stomach, face pressed against a pillow in an attempt to not disturb the entire floor, as Shiro used his fingers to drive him insane. 

It felt like he’d been between his legs, kissing and licking and nipping and using his fingers to fuck him open for hours, yet the clock said it hadn’t been. His stomach and thighs were sticky with his first release, sweat, and a new pool of precum, and he felt like he was about to blow again. He said as much, moaned it brokenly as Shiro’s tongue swirled inside of him.

"Okay.” Shiro said. His ass was bitten lightly and then Shiro was lying over him, pushing into his loose and relaxed body, filling him up. Lance groaned then again, louder, forgetting sbout thin walls and privacy  because oh fuck, as Shiro started to move with slow deep thrusts.

“Oh.” Lance hiccuped as he forgot how to breathe. “Shiro that. Oh!”

“Good?” One of Shiro’s hands found his, forced it to unclench from the sheets and let Shiro’s slick, wet fingers slide between his own.

Lance nodded. “Yeah.”


	4. Relax

Lance wanted nothing more than to clean the blood from his hair and then crawl into bed and sleep. He’d gotten rumbled around inside of Blue, hit his head but it looked worse than it was according to Coran so he’d gotten patched up and sent on his way. 

He’d missed Shiro, the other man had slunk off while Lance was getting looked over, but he knew that his boyfriend didn’t tolerate seeing him hurt well. And blood…well blood made Shiro squeamish when it was someone he cared about doing the bleeding. He understood why he’d had to leave, and that it wasn’t a lack of care, but he’d still missed him. 

He expected it to be a while before Shiro came back from wherever it was he went when he needed time to cope so he was surprised when he stepped into his bathroom, the skintight black shirt he wore under his armor already stripped off, to find Shiro languishing in his tub, up to his neck in bubbles. He stopped, eyebrows going up. 

“Um. Hi.” 

Shiro turned, water sloshing over the sides of the tub, and his eyes swept over Lance quickly. “Hey. Get in.” 

Lance rubbed at his eyes tiredly. Normally he’d be jumping at this change, all too willing to get wet and slippery in the tub with Shiro, but right now…now he was sleepy and sore and just not-

All this universe saving was fucking with his libido. Who would have thought he’d ever be getting ready to turn down Shiro, Shiro, of all people? 

“Shiro,” Lance sighed as he leaned against the door frame. “I’m not really feeling it tonight.” 

Shiro’s smile was warm and amused. “Just a bath. I’m sore, I know you’re sore.” 

He considered that for a moment then nodded slowly, not wanting to move his head too much. He shimmied out of his pants and briefs then climbed into the tub, sighing as the hot, floral smelling water met his skin. He sank down, Shiro’s hands helping to steady him, then leaned back against his boyfriend’s chest. Arms snaked around his waist and Shiro pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. 

He relaxed slowly, going limp against Shiro as strong hands carefully cleaned his hair, pouring handfuls of water while avoiding the bandages on his head. He was barely awake when Shiro quietly declared him blood free and mumbled a thanks as he pillowed his head on the other’s shoulder. 

“Thanks.” 

“Of course.” He was hugged gently. “Any time.”


	5. is that a gun in your pocket

Shiro could hear the music blaring before he even got out of his car. It was a warm autumn night and, it seemed, someone had decided to throw a party with their music turned all the way up and their windows wide open. Sadly that someone neighbors weren’t big fans of the Spice Girl’s greatest hits (Shiro could relate) and now he was there. Noise complaints were one of his more routine calls, especially on the weekends. 

Sadly the station he worked at included the local university in it’s territory and that meant a near endless parade of drunk students to deal with. When he’d gone to the police academy with big dreams of being a cop in his head he’d never imagined most of his time would be spent wandering around at midnight to bust up bar fights, get his shoes picked on, and knock on doors to tell people to go the hell to sleep.  

But that was the job and he generally, more or less, sorta kinda loved it. 

And yet when, after the ringing the doorbell, the door swung open to reveal a very red eyed, red faced, swaying dangerously man (Kid? …man, hopefully, since he was clearly drunk as hell.) he wasn’t feeling a whole lot of love for the uniform. That sentiment, it seemed, wasn’t mutual becase the man’s eyes went saucer wide and his lips spread into a huge grin. 

“Holy shit! Hunk! Hunk!” He shouted shrilly, making Shiro wince. “Did you…did you get me a stripper for my birthday? You’re the best bro ever!”

Oh. Oh no. Shiro reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, biting back the urge to sigh deeply and ask God why he was forced to deal with shit like this. 

“Sir, I’m Officer-”

“NO!” He shouted, shaking his head. “Let me guess. Officer Friendly. Officer Ben Dover? Officer Feelmeup.” 

Shiro rolled his eyes. Fuck his life. The guy lurched towards him with alarming speed, sending off every warning bell in Shiro’s head, and…grabbed his chest. Shiro’s brow furrowed in confusion and no small amount of horror as the guy started to rub and knead his chest. 

“Do you lift? You must lift. Your tiddies are amazing.” 

“Sir!” Shiro snapped as he batted the roaming hands away, cheeks turning hot. “Sir I must insist-”

“That I come inside and assume the position? Dude, yes.” A hand gripped his wrist and, taking a deep calming breath, because doing a takedown on a drunk college student was not a good look ever, let himself be dragged into the front hallway. 

The guy let him go once he was past the threshold, didn’t bother shutting the door, and shuffled over to put his hands on the wall, bending over slightly, legs spread. Shiro stared at his back blankly. Then sighed. Loudly. 

“Sir-”

“So is that a gun in your pocket or are you happy to see me?” He asked, throwing him a cheeky grin over his shoulder. 

“It’s a gun.” Shiro deadpanned. ‘And I am not happy to see you. Can you maybe-”

“Right! You need music right? Not a Spice Girls fan? That’s okay I’ve got all kinds of stuff.” He pushed off of the wall and wheeled around, nearly tipping over, then headed towards where the ear splittingly loud music was coming from.  “How about ‘Pony’? That song gets me-”

“Lance?” A slurred voice called from somewhere in the house. “Man. I…I don’t think I got you a stripper.” 

The man, Lance, stopped short then slowly turned to face Shiro again. “No? Not even a super hot, apparently really ripped, walking wet dream stripper dressed as a cop?” 

“Nu uh. Next time though I will get you one. Two! A man and a woman. Because I’m inclusive.” 

“Shit.” Lance said. “Hunk! Hunk is groping an actual cop illegal?” 


	6. Ignore Me, I didn't see anything

Lance was pretty sure he’d never been so mortified in his life. And he was the youngest of 4 kids with an overly involved mother and dad who literally cracked the lamest jokes ever. He knew what it was to be so embaressed he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. 

This. This was worse. 

Shiro stared at him from under the shower, hair slicked to his head, skin shiney as water beaded over it, hugging every muscles and his abs-jesus there should have been a *law* against those abs and water and honestly. Honestly. But. The big problem though was not Shiro’s absolutely sickening body but the fact that his human hand was propped up against the tiles and his robot hand, all white and black and wet, was wrapped around his cock. 

And also that Lance was staring. Hard. 

Fuck him. 

“Ignore me, I didn’t see anything!” Lance all but shouted, stepping backwards and waving his hands frantically. Which was dumb since his hands were holding up his towel. Or had been. Because now his towel was on the ground. And his own half hard cock, traitor that it was, was on display. 

Shiro looked. And smiled. 


	7. Piercings

Lance licked his lips eagerly as he eased Shiro’s boxers down down his hips. He’d been waiting to get his mouth on Shiro for…a while and tonight was finally the night and he was so very ready. Like might come in his pants while sucking Shiro off ready. 

But hopefully not because that would pretty embarrassing and what the fuck was that?

“Holy Shit?” He whispered, eyes growing large as he took in Shiro’s cock. It was nice, real nice, long and thick, fat mushroom shaped head and yeah, it was going to feel amazing on his tongue, stretching his mouth open, ramming down his throat and he’d known all of that the first time he’d seen Shiro. But what he hadn’t expected on straight laced, nice guy, TA and part time librarian Shiro was a piercing. Three of them actually, barbells lining the underside of his cock like some kind of ladder. 

Shiro made a noise in the back of his throat as he pushed himself up on his elbows, a flush stealing across his nose. “Ummm. Is that a problem? I know not everyone is into it and I was about to say something but you kinda…jumped on me and fuck!”

Saying ‘I have never wanted anything in my mouth more’ seemed like maybe it would ruin the mood and, on occasion, Lance was more of a doer than a sayer. And by on occasion he meant when it come to sucking cock.

Lance took Shiro into his mouth eagerly, sucking him in without preamble. The piercings were cool and tasted metallic against his tongue, and rolled against the muscle as he slurped along the shaft. He prodded at them gently, trying to get a feel for them, and his cock throbbed in his pants. 

Yeah. 

That was hot as fuck.


	8. Begging/Orgasm Denial

“What do you want?” Lance asked, grinning down at Shiro, eyes flashing dangerously. “Tell me.” 

Shiro writhed on the fucking chair, the dildo attached to the end pistoning in and out of him as it had been for so long now he could scarcely remember when it hadn’t been inside of him, when the low drone of the machinery hadn’t been filling his ears. 

He hadn’t been allowed to come yet, his release held at bay by a ring fixed tight around his balls and the base of his cock. No matter how well the dildo fucked him, and it did it well, was thick and ridge, pounded his prostate, made him see stars even though his eyes were open. No matter how much Lance stroked him and sucked him or took his cock deep into his blazing hot mouth and throat; in the end he couldn’t orgasm. His cock drooled precum, enough that it was pooling on the seat beneath him, and he’d gotten to the edge but…

He just kept climbing, spiraling higher and higher than he felt possible until he felt like a spring under too much pressure, like he would snap and fire off the minute the near painful pressure let up. And he needed it, god he needed it. He couldn’t take anymore of Lance’s game. 

“I want to come. Please.” He whispered, staring up at his lover through lashes clumped together with tears. “Lance.” 

“Say it better.” Lance cooed as he leaned into him, smiling widely. “Beg me for it Shiro. Tell me how bad you want me to let you come.” 

Shiro nodded frantically, the words spilling free without hesitation. “Please Lance, please. Let me come, I need it so badly, it fucking hurts and you’re the only one who can let me. I’ll be so good for you Lance, I swear. Just…let me come.” 

Lance smiled at him again as his thumb swept over Shiro’s bitten over lips. “Okay baby. And then we’ll play another game.” 


	9. Object Penetration, Dark Shiro

Lance’s eyes went as wide as saucers when he saw what he was holding in his hand. The Champion smiled at his prize, a shiver of delight running up his spine as he drank in the pure fear on the Blue Paladin’s face. They had spent many hours together and Lance’s body told the tale, a swollen lip, blackened eye, cuts, and countless bruises testaments to the pain the Champion had given and the cum dried on his thighs and seeping from his body giving away the pleasure the Champion had taken. 

He was limp now, had finally spent himself for the time being, but he wasn’t yet ready to call it a night. Not when there was still fight in his new pet’s body, not when he still insisted on calling him-

“Shiro, don’t.” He begged, eyes brimming with tears. “Please don’t.” 

The back hand snapped his head back so hard the Champion could hear his teeth clink and made him cough blood. It bubbled up past his lips, stained them red, and dripped down his chin. 

“Naughty thing.” The Champion said as he eyed the thick wine bottle Zarkon has bestowed upon him. It was some fancy brand with a fancy bottle, that started thin but grew to be twice as thick as his hand soon enough and twisted around in a coil. It was heavy, solid, and didn’t seem like it would break easily, which was very important. He didn’t want to cut his put up inside.

He wouldn’t be any good to him anytime soon if he had to get sent to the infirmary to get healed up. 

“I was going to give you a choice between this and my fist-” Lance whimpered, thighs quaking. “But now I think I’ll choose. …what do you think would happen if I opened it up before I shoved it into you?” 

A strangled sob was his only answer. The Champion didn’t mind, he prefered to only hear his pet when he was screaming. Which was just what he did when he pushed the cool glass into his prize. Not at first but when it started to thicken, when the length started to be much more than the Champion’s cock was, when it became clear he wasn’t letting up. 

Then he screamed, back bowing and tears falling. 


	10. let me hug you

“You made it into the fighter program?” Shrio echoed, looking up from his book. Lance had just come bursting into his dorm room, waving his promotion letter frantically, and was all but vibrating from his own excitement. 

“I made it! I retook the practical last week and I. Fucking. Made. It. No more cargo class for me!” The letter was waved under Shiro’s nose, all put shoved into his face so it was all he could see. He laughed as he reached up and pulled Lance’s hand away so he could see him. His eyes were bright and round, brimming with tears, and his smile was so large Shiro was sure it had to be hurting his face. 

The last time Lance had taken his practical exam had been a different story entirely. He’d bombed it so badly that even with a near flawless simulation score he’d be thrown into the cargo class, and had taken it upon himself to burrow into Shiro’s bed and camp out there with a blanket over his head, insisting he was a failure, for hours. Shiro had eventually gotten him up and they’d been going over study guides and text books ever since. 

It wasn’t that Lance didn’t know the information. Lance was one of the smartest people Shiro had ever met and a naturally gifted pilot but when it came to testing he just…couldn’t focus properly. But with enough repetition and drilling Shiro had hoped it would all become like second nature. 

Shiro prefered him like this. Happy, ecstatic even, unable to stand still because he was so excited. Shiro felt his lips turning up in response, answering Lance’s joy with his own. He stood up without realizing he was doing it and pulled Lance into a crushing hug. Lance inhaled in shock, entire body going rigid for a moment, and then he sort of…sank into it. 

“Thanks Shiro.” Was murmured near his ear. “I couldn’t have done this without your help.”

Shiro scoffed; that was utter bullshit if he’d ever heard it. He knew Lance could have figured out things on his own, could have made it happen, but he’d been happy to help. Even happier now with this sort of end result. Lance was so happy and…wow, he was really warm. And smelled nice, like apples and a little bit of salt, and his body was firm and solid, deceptively muscular and broad in places. He was stronger than he looked too, squeezing him tight, and-

“…um. Shiro?” Lance pulled back a little, head tilted so there were seeing eye to eye. “Is that-”

Shiro jumped back, face burning, and dropped his hands to cover his very very poorly timed half-chub. Lance’s face went red up to the tips of his ears. 


	11. Secret Identity

Shiro had to admit this was not one of his better moments. It wasn’t so much that he’d gotten his ass royally kicked, on live TV (He was going to send a strongly worded letter to Miss Allura Altea and her somehow always fucking there for his worst moments news crew) because hey, that sort of thing happened. If he’d learned nothing else since he’d gotten weird cat powers and started running around the city trying to help people it was that getting beat up happened. 

No, no, his real issue was that he’d somehow ended up an the actual dumpster after being thrown lovingly off a building by Sendak. He’d passed out briefly (he’d really gotten his ass kicked) and by the time his healing factor kicked in and he woke up it’d been to the face of a certain camera man hovering over him. 

He was not, thankfully, in the dumpster anymore. Instead he was on…a couch? Inside a very cluttered apartment; there was something on literally every available surface that he could see from his place on the floor. Stacks of folders here, cameras there, glossy photos and printouts tacked up on the walls. 

“Lance?” 

“Hi Shiro.” Lance said as cheerful as ever. “Or should I say Lion?”

Shiro inhaled sharply, sitting up so fast they nearly collided. Lance sat back on his heels, eyebrows jumping up in surprise, and Shiro went to feel his face. Then swore when he realized his mask was gone (and he had some bandages slapped on his temple but that was hardly worth noting) 

“You took off my mask!?” 

“What? No!” Lance looked absolutely scandalized. “I mean, yeah, but not really? It was half torn off when I fished you out of that dumpster-”

Shiro groaned and covered his eyes with his hand. “You took me out of the dumpster?” 

Lance actually chuckled, as if Shiro wasn’t in the middle of a identity crisis. “Yeah. That was…not a good look. And now my van and couch smell so. You’re welcome.” ’

“Oh god.” Well there went his reputation. “Listen, you can’t tell anyone about this Lance, it’s-”

“Wait, I can’t tell anyone that my actual hero’s secret identity is…you?” The younger man smiled wryly then pushed himself up to stand. “I won’t. I wouldn’t do that Shiro. You’re literally saving the city from crazy dudes with superpowers! I’ve always…looked up to you, I guess, and now you are…” 

Shiro watched as Lance started pacing, hands waving in his excitement. “This is basically some kind of crazy dream. I’d sort of hoped it was you, just as a weird sex dream sort of thing to have a face for the fantasy, but-”

“Wait, what?”

“…what? Nothing!” 


	12. More Than This

It wasn’t really any one thing that made it be ‘too much’. It wasn’t like Lance had woken up that night and thought ‘this is it, I can’t take this’ or anything like that. He’s been there already, for weeks or maybe months…it just that it was the first time he’d managed to haul himself out of bed without someone dragging him out in a long time. 

It was the first time that he’d felt like he could do it

His parents were out, one of the rare dates they’d gone on since he’d moved back in (fussing after their son who couldn’t hack it in college apparently killed a lot of the fun in life) so there was no one to see him as he stumbled out of his room, rubbing his eyes and yawning. No one to watch him make a sandwich, sit in front of the tv to watch the last episode of Flash for the season and carefully pen a note for his parents. He knew exactly what he wanted to say and for the first time in months words came easily. 

The heaviness that had settled in his chest and gut, had refused to move all this time, lessened. 

Another for his sister and brother, folded them up and left them on the coffee table where they’d be found easily. He finished his show, dressed and made sure all the lights were off, then left. He made sure the door was locked and, without a look back.

It was a warm misty night, the smell of grass and spring in the air. Every step further away make him feel lighter. Free after so much time of feeling…crushed in his own skin. 

The walk went quickly. The train tracks weren’t far at all, about twenty minutes to get there and reach the middle of the bridge that crossed the river. He looked down over the railing then frowned when he realized he was over land still, someone’s yard maybe. He thought, idly, that it would be rude to make a mess on someone’s grass and so he walked further until he was over the water. 

He leaned over, letting the breeze off the water ruffle his hair and fill his lungs, briny and salty, then breathed out slowly. His mind was shockingly blank, calm

A rustling sound and shuffling, like feet barely being picked up as they moved over the ground, kicking up gravel. He swayed forward, hand clenching reflexively on the railing, and then there was a hand on him, holding tight. 

He turned slightly, blinking up in confusion. Gray eyes stared back, flickered down towards the water, and then back up at him. He opened his mouth then shut it, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t expected anyone to be here, it was late and trains barely ran anymore, he hadn’t-

“You’re jumping.” The man holding onto him said, head tilting. Lance started to shake his head, mouth drying out. 

“I-I…”

He expected that sympathy, the pity, he was getting so used to but instead there was just…sadness. A deep, fathomless, sadness, punctuated with a thin smile and a sigh. 

“Me too. Maybe. I don’t know.” He let go of Lance in favor of leaning again the railing. “I was…walking. Seeing where I ended up.” 

“Oh.” Lance said, so quiet he could barely hear himself. 

“Yeah. Oh.” 

Silence. There was the creaking and rattling of the bridge as the wind blew, some chirping insects, the rasp of the other man breathing, but it was as if they’d run out of words to say to each other already. Lance would have expected more, it was everyday you decide to kill yourself and then ran into someone doing the same, but there was…nothing to say. 

The silence stretched and snaked like it was alive, squeezing Lance’s lungs. 

“I used to live down there.” The man said, pointing at somewhere Lance could barely see.

“Yeah?” Lance asked, just to have something to say. 

He nodded, smiling a bit less sickly now. “I think that’s why I came here. Muscle memory, you know? Familiar. Used to…all sorts of stuff. Wade in the gross river, which I do not recommend. Play on the shore. Bring girls and guys up to the bridge to make out. Before everything… And there’s a place. Waffle place. Over on that side? Great waffles. I think…maybe I wanted to go again.” 

Lance licked his lips, feeling where they were dry and cracked, tasted metal. “Sounds nice. You should go. Do that.” 

“Yeah. Maybe.” He closed his eyes for a moment, sighing. “You should come. Waffles are on me.” 


	13. Galra Shiro/Altean Lance

Lance smiles nervously at the man looking over their display cases. He always feels a little nervous at work, worries about saying the right thing, securing the sell, not being identified. It isn’t often the second in line for the Altean crown picks up a job, let alone one in the huge cross-species bazaar on Galra’s moon

If anyone knew who he was he, and everyone he worked with, could be at risk. Lance had been threatened and nearly kidnapped, an alarming number of times growing up though not as often as Allura. But Coran thought his father’s attempts to protect him had done him a disservice in that he’d been isolated and knew nothing of other people and so here he was. 

Hair dyed dark because the white was a royal family give away, under an assumed name, with only Hunk as his gaurd instead of the half dozen he was used to. 

He liked to think it was going well, a few incidents with being unprepared for customer ‘tempers’ and that one time Hunk had appeared from wherever it was he hid out to tackle someone trying to give Lance their number aside. 

Which was to say it was going badly.

And today was deemed a very important day and it wasn’t going well. A Galra fleet had come in, the last stop before those off defending and fighting for their people returned home, and not only were they busy but they were dealing with important customers. Or so the store manager had said. Lance had nearly been sent home, as a precaution because these were not people who you wanted to offend, but in the end they’d needed him. 

He’d been on the register until now, not allowed to try and sell least he mess up but this man had approached him specifically for help.

He was nervous but excited. He didn’t deal with many Galra, they weren’t big on jewelry, but they were Alteas closest ally so he needed to learn. But this was no ordinary Galra military man. He was in armor, not a uniform like the others, but Lance knew this armor, the style and color, marked him as a high ranking commander. He didn’t have fur, his hair was dark, and his ears were smaller, swept back and rounded, all of which meant a 'low’ birth. That made his ranking that much more impressive, Galra nobles were automatic officers but the average citizen had to work very hard to get that kind of status. 

And yet he didn’t look that old. Though the marks on his armor, the scars on his face, the robotic arm, the darkness in his eyes seemed to conflict with his apparent youth. 

He hadn’t said much, merely pointed to a few different pendants, looked them over closely before returning them and moving on. Lance’s boss was watching them, clearly wishing anyone else was waiting on this customer, and it was just making Lance more anxious. He didn’t not want to screw this up, he was already in thin ice. If he ended up fired he’d be sent home and if he was sent home his father and Coran and Allura would be so disappointed in him.

“This one.” The man said, holding the pendant he’d been looking at out to Lance. “What do you think?”

Lance took it carefully. It was a low energy crystal, not good for much but the smallest data streams and so most people dismissed it, from Arus, shaped into a teardrop shape. At first glance it was a solid medium blue color but when Lance’s fingers touched it it lit up with a soft glow. He could see veins of silver and flecks of deeper blue and green deep inside of it. 

“It’s beautiful." 

"I’ll take that and a new chain for it. Pick whatever you think will look best.” The man handed him a credit chip then held out a hand to take the crystal back. Lance handed it over, found a nice long silver colored chain that the man nodded his approval of before taking, and then went to ring up his purchase. 

He caught an approving look from the manager. 

When the purchase went through he glanced at the name on the digital receipt before hitting confirm and sending it off. Commander T. Shirogane. 

Why did he feel like he knew that name? 

He returned to the man with the chip and a box but Commander Shirogane waved the box off. “No need, unless you didn’t want to wear it." 

Lance blinked. "What?”

Commander Shirogane smiled; it made his gray eyes light up. He took Lance’s hand, fingers rough but grip gentle. He turned it so it was palm up then dropped the pendant into his hand. “I’m giving this to you.”

“I…I can’t.” He sputtered, looking around for help. His manager was giving him a flat 'do not fuck up’ look and Hunk was nowhere in sight. “I can’t accept this." 

"I insist.” He smiled again, mischievous this time. “Have a good day, Prince Alurian." 

Lance gaped, shocked silent, as the commander plucked the credit chip from his other hand then walked off, melting into the crowd. 

It was only as he looked back at the pendant, and realized that it had already had data imputed into it, that he remembered where he heard the name. From his father, at dinner one night. Commander Shirogane, usually called Shiro, Sendak’s second in command and bodyguard to the Galra Prince, and military officer, Keitheal. 

And it seemed he’d programmed his coms address into the pendant with a short message. 

'Your secret is safe.' 

Maybe, Lance thought as he slide the chain over his head, he would just not tell Hunk about this. 


	14. Bakery AU

“He’s back.” Pidge murmured, lips twitching with barely contained laughter, as she brushed past him. Lance looked up and, spotting who Pidge mockingly referred to as ‘His best customer’ crossing the street towards their shop, pushed away from the counter. 

Lance took a second to check himself over in the nearest reflective surface, ignoring Pidge’s snickering, smoothed down his hair, washed his hands, and was grabbing one of their smaller to-go boxes by the time Shiro (Petty Officer First Class Shirogane and honestly just thinking that made Lance’s knees weak.) was stepping up to him. 

Shiro was tall and broad, heavily scarred from Lance didn’t even know what and a patch of hair that literally grew in white (from shock according to Pidge who had no chill and thus had asked one day.), and serious faced 95% of the time. And yet Lance, who didn’t normally go for the rugged battleworn thing, was so very gone for the guy. Maybe it was because the other 5% of the time Shiro was smiling, small and soft and heart melting. Maybe it was the way he filled out that blue camo uniform of his. 

Maybe it was the look of pure bliss on his face when he took that first bite of his favorite baked good, which never failed to make Lance feel warm all over. He loved when people loved his food and Shiro seemed to really really love his strawberry shortcake. 

Lance had thought, at first meeting, Shiro looked like a bitter chocolate cake or dark chunk brownie kind of guy; there was just something about him that screamed that. But instead he’d stepped up, eyed the display case, smiled that stomach twisting smile and ordered the shortcake. 

Lance was not at all ashamed to admit that he now paid extra special attention to the strawberries they got from the farmers market and maybe set aside the two nicest shortcakes with the perfect amount of strawberry glaze spread over the top, perfect amount of cream piped on, and the nicest biggest berries on it every Thursday. 

It wasn’t just that Shiro was hot, because the world was full of hot, but that he seemed so nice and mellow and thoughtful and attentive, happy to chat with Lance or Pidge or whoever was working, listening to Lance drone on about new pastry ideas and somehow always looking interested while doing so when most people looked bored after a while. It was how easy it was to talk to him, and like him. It was that he seemed aware that he got looks, for the uniform, the scars, the prosthetic, but never seemed ruffled or annoyed. 

And. Also. So Hot. Like surprise uniform kink hot. 

“Here you go.” He said as he set the tied off box and the small plate, plus tea, Shiro always ordered in front of the man. Shiro was ready with his money, knew the exact price by now, and thanked him when he handed over the change. 

Shiro hesitated for heading to his usual table, outside in front of the shop at the cafe style tables then, smiling at him, leaned forward some. “What’s your favorite?” 

Lance opened his mouth, shut it because his brain was screaming gibberish, felt his face heat up, and made a gesture to the case. Shiro blinked, looking down where he was pointing, then back up at him in silent question. 

“Chocolate croissant.” Pidge shouted from where she was wiping down a table. “He loves those.” 

“One of those too then. If you had time to join me, I mean.”

Lance squeaked. Pidge sighed. “He owns the place so I’m pretty sure he can do whatever he wants.” 

Shiro’s smile returned.


	15. Why don't you marry me

“Excuse me?” Shiro asks, peering across the table at Lance who has stopped shoveling coco puffs into his mouth long enough to propose to him. Maybe propose to him? Shiro wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. 

They weren’t dating or anything. They were friends, for years, who lived together and had, on occasion, gotten a little tipsy and fooled around. Maybe on the road to dating eventually but taking their time getting there because…well because they could. Because they were comfortable like they were, sharing space and time, hanging out, watching TV, cooking, doing laundry together…sometimes making out or shoving the other against the washing machine and trying to climb them like a tree (which Shiro was willing to admit he was maybe a little too fond of). No reason to mess with the status quo. 

Or so he’d thought.

“Let’s get married.” Lance repeated around a mouthful of cereal. “Head down to the courthouse, fill out the paperwork, and get married.” 

“…why?” 

“College costs.” Lance said, smirking slightly. Shiro breathed out, the tension in his stomach lessening, and shook his head. He should have seen that coming. 

They continued to sit in companionable silence, Lance crunching and slurping away while Shiro sipped his coffee and flipped through the news on his tablet. He’d almost forgotten Lance’s little outburst when a bare foot pressed against his calf. He jumped, eyes darting up to meet Lance’s bright blue ones, as that foot trailed down, found its way into his sweatpants, and started running up over his skin. 

“Can I help you?” 

“I’m hoping so.” 

“Don’t you have to go to work?” 

“Got two whole hours.” Lance said dismissively. “Besides I just want to makeout.” Shiro’s eyebrow went up and Lance’s expression went flat. “Don’t want to disappoint my mama by living in sin so anything more than that is just inappropriate.”

Shiro twitched as Lance’s foot pushed against his inner thigh and the younger man slipped down in his seat a little to give himself more room to work with. “You’re evil.” 

“Yep.” 


	16. Through a Song

They’re out at the beach, on the cliff that overlooks the ocean, sitting on the hood of Lance’s car and looking up at the stars. It’s a little chilly, the breeze off the water cutting through the warmth of the night, and maybe Shiro uses that as an excuse pull Lance a little closer and rest his head on the other’s shoulder. 

He briefly thinks that maybe they’re a little too old for this, that being in your late twenties means making out in the same place you made out when you were teenagers is a lot less endearing when getting caught fooling around in public can have actual consequences. He thinks that they need to get back to Lance’s mom’s house soon because she’ll sit up until they do, just like she used to do when waiting for him to bring Lance home. And tomorrow is an early day; weddings don’t stop being a shit ton of work even on the day of. 

But this is nice and quiet for the first time in weeks. So he just presses closer and smiles when Lance’s fingers run over his side softly. 

“Remember the first time you brought me up here?” 

Lance shifts then sighs mournfully. “When I tried to play the guitar and sing you that shit song I wrote to confess my feelings while rhyming Shiro with Hero? And you somehow didn’t fall off the cliff laughing at how pathetic I was.” 

Shiro picks up his head to frown at Lance. “I liked that song.” 

“You did not.” He scoffs. 

“I did.” Shiro insists. “That’s why I went out with you.”

Lance’s eyes narrow slightly. “I think I’m offended.”


End file.
